The Tide, Part V

Remembering no more the former
times, and being given to our
separateness we sang like tuning forks
according to the strange cosmic
reverberations of the angel’s ancient
cacophony; we became throughout
the eras whatever amorphous desires
decided to attach themselves to us—
indeed we were hosts to parasites,
truly legion, merciless in their
continual holocaust year after year—
we thought we were flesh alone but
on the island we discovered we had
bone—an undefinable substance
subcellular, some silver shimmering
and living bundle which was created
to be excised agonisingly over
centuries of torment—the only
comparable thing was our sudden
estrangement from each other, which
unceasing was the stoning of our
cowering forms forbearing
retribution; it was divine discipline,
sadness—God, sweet merciful Lord
give us rest from our unspeakable
afflictions, our crying out, you only
can correct our error.

Thanks for checking out my poem.

Did I tell you I wrote a novel? You can read it here for free, or get it for your e-reader on iBooks, Amazon or Kobo. Or you can just say you read the book, and donate five bucks down below. Go on.

Gabriel Muoio


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